The Knight of Blood Sadstuck
by Kihtra
Summary: **TW: cutting** Karkat stumbles into depression after spending a little over a sweep on the meteor. (Take this as either the beginning to a red or pale relationship, it works both ways.)


Growing up is never easy—at least, that's what young trolls are told repeatedly, by their lusi, their friends, by movies and novels. Whereas the truth of that statement is evident, the reality of it often washes over young ears. Growing up _is _incredibly difficult, but merely knowing this universal fact does not aid in the experience itself.

It must have been a little over a sweep since Sollux rocketed the lifeless ball of rock through the expanse nothingness. Hope of finally finding peace in a new universe slowly melted into curiosity, which dwindled down to apathy. Within a quarter sweep, the excitement that bound the group was reduced to a mere trickle, accessible occasionally by those who manage to blot out the painful memories of loosing friends and teammates, of the utter failure of their session, of the absurdity of the game itself.

Some were not as affected by this apathy as others. Terezi and Dave became incredibly close, and found comfort in distracting themselves with drawing, or rhyming, or—more likely—exploring each other's anatomy. Kanaya had her books to keep her company, alongside her newfound intimacy with Rose.

However, despite preoccupying their time with trivialities, there was a deep, quiet understanding that these long, long days will ultimately result in more death, more confusion, more absurdity, and more pain. It was a limbo between universes. a comprehensive uncertainty of the future that resulted in passing the time before the inevitable.

To Karkat Vantas, however, the inevitable wasn't merely future Karkat's problem. The weight and stress of the mere thought of leading his team to victory once the meteor arrived in the new session sent him spiraling into madness. This entire escapade was his fault after all, resulting from his failures to lead a team, his failure to keep a moirail in check, to prevent the deaths that stained the floors with the colors of his fallen teammates.

Everyone had someone to assure them it would all be okay. The only exception was Karkat and Gamzee, with Gamzee so far off the deep end engulfed in his strange religion and newfound purpose to return the moirallegiance.

Karkat had never felt so alone in his entire life.

It was a strange and foreign feeling to him. After all, Karkat had grown up separated from many of his friends. In fact, he had grown up hating just about all of them, perfectly content in his hive with his lusus, watching classic Alternian romantic comedies and writing terrible computer programs. It wasn't until getting close with all the others, until he met them all in person and led them as a team, until he watched everyone who looked up to him slowly turn their backs in apathy, that he started to feel truly alone.

No one particularly noticed, but Karkat began to sink into a deep depression. This was the kind of depression that hides itself deep within the mind, so much that it is nearly invisible to those around it. It was a smart kind of depression in this way, wise enough not to inform others of its existence for the fear of being uprooted.

Karkat would participate in group meetings and meals, occasionally humor everyone with pointless rants and rages, and return to his receptacle alone—a little bit emptier.

_It's all your fault_, the darkness would whisper. _And look at all of them? They couldn't care less about you as their former leader. They couldn't care less about you as a troll, as a friend. They simply don't care about you, and what reason would they have? You pathetic sack of shit. You mutated their reward universe. You are the reason the ones they _actually _cared about are dead._

Perhaps if he was born into an actual blood caste, his life would have been different. If he were of royal blood, leadership would be second nature to him. If he were born amongst the lowbloods, perhaps he wouldn't be in the position to lead and the stresses and shortcomings could have rested on someone else's shoulders.

But _no. _He had to be born with _mutant candy red blood_. Disgusting, red, pointless blood, terrorizing him constantly, forcing him to conceal it. Breaking him.

Karkat sat on the cold, barren metal floor of his receptacle, unable to sleep nor escape his patronizing state of depression. He arose, ever so slowly, and exited into the main hall. Since there was no rise and fall of a sun, there was no need for terms of day and night. Instead, the party would sleep and awaken whenever they pleased. This eventually led to a sort of quasi-sleep schedule, in which most trolls and humans would sync their sleeping cycles to everyone else.

At this particular time, most were asleep. Rose was audibly giggling from her receptacle, drunk, probably messing around with Kanaya. In a few minutes she would cease her laughter, signifying that she has passed out over the jade blooded troll, who does not sleep. Instead, Kanaya will read a novel amidst the faint glow of her skin, enjoying the softness and rhythmic breathing of her sleeping lover.

This meant that Karkat could be alone and uninterrupted in the main hall. He slumped over towards the kitchen, and reached into a drawer.

_Ugly mutant blood_.

Selecting a small, sharp knife, he delicately removed it from its home and returned to the main hall.

_You failed to protect your moirail from himself._

He sat down at a table, in darkness, enjoying the still of the air and the quietness of his sleeping teammates. The faint glow from passing dreambubbles filtered in through a small skylight, and soon his eyes adjusted to the dimness. His monstrous insecurities chimed again, interrupting his brief calm.

_Terezi dumped you because she was sick of you._

He bit his bottom lip, his teeth piercing the skin. The taste of rust slowly hit the back of his tongue.

_Nobody cares. Just do it._

A quick flick of his wrist imposed a scratch upon the other. The scratch began to redden, and then seep small droplets of red.

_That's it? That's all you got? You coward. You were always such a coward._

This time he dug deeper, more slowly, letting the sting envelop him, the scent of his own blood disgust him. He watched as it trickled down his arm. For a brief moment, the voice of his depression ceased its whispering. For a moment there was nothing but silence. Soon there would be grief, regret, and another cut.

This was a ritual he would engage in nearly every time the others were asleep, for at least the last few months. Nobody noticed the scars slowly riding up his arm beneath his long-sleeved shirt. Not even Terezi, whose sense of smell was incredibly strong. _She's too preoccupied with that Dave human to give a shit_.

The thought sent him back into a rage, and he raked the knife across his wrist once more. It felt like nothing. Thick wells of blood began to seep down his arm and drop onto the floor. He dropped the blade in misery, knowing fully well that this time he had gone too far. Within seconds, he began to float, weightless, and a flash of heat clouded his vision. After the sensation subsided, the realization of his loneliness, of sitting in darkness amongst a snoozing group of humans and trolls unwilling to care or notice, overwhelmed him. He never felt better after cutting, so he never quite understood why he continued the act. Perhaps he despised his blood so much that he wanted to spill it from him. He unrolled his sleeves back over his grey skin, which was now bleeding heavily. He didn't care if the blood soaked into the fabric. Not this time.

"Karkat?" a familiar voice sounded from the shadows.

The young troll jerked his head towards the dark corners of the main hall, searching for the perpetrator. Why was _he _here of all times? How long has he been there? Karkat put his foot over the knife that had fallen to the floor, in a pathetic attempt to hide his actions.

"It's okay, dude, you don't have to..."

The concern in his friend's voice sent Karkat over the edge. "Why the fuck are you here, Dave? This doesn't concern you." He guiltily buried his head in his hands.

"I was sleeping out here obviously."

Desperately trying to change the subject, Karkat sneered. He had started to know Dave a little bit more over the course of the sweep, but not enough to understand when he was being sarcastic.

"No, seriously, I came out here to sleep," Dave insisted.

"Well then why the fuck aren't you?"

Dave stepped forward into the subtle shine of the skylight. As always, he sported his beloved pair of shades. His wore his god tier outfit, one that was—through some absurd game mechanic—always clean and therefore never needed to be changed.

Karkat glanced towards him. "And why would you even sleep in a cape?"

"It's like a blanket basically, reminding me of the relaxing fluids of the womb which once coaxed me elegantly to sleep."

"I know damn well that you were never born from whatever the fuck a womb is since John is basically your creator." He chuckled. "Actually, scratch that, _I _am basically your creator."

Their typical bantering was cut short, however. A terrifying silence braced Karkat for a barrage of questions, of concern, of anger. But there were none. Instead, Dave stepped closer to Karkat, and sat on the ground beside him. He looked down at the troll's shoe. A small gleam of the silver that coated the weapon caught his eye. "Karkat...dude...I—"

"I KNOW YOU PRICK. HA HA HA YES, I AM PATHETIC, I GET IT. BUT IT WASN'T YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS AND GUESS WHAT? IT STILL ISN'T. HERE'S A NEWSFLASH FOR YOU: I DON'T CARE IF YOU THINK IT'S SELFISH OR STUPID OR ANYTHING BECAUSE I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU THINK. I NEVER DID AND NEVER WILL, SO YOU MAY AS WELL JUST STOP—"

The Knight of Time stood up, placed his hand over Karkat's mouth to silence his burst of rage, and put his other hand on his shoulder. "Shut up."

Karkat stared at him bitterly, slobbering "WHY DHE FUH DO I NEED TU BE CUIEH" beneath Dave's hand.

Dave's grip on his shoulder tightened. His voice lowered as he stared directly into Karkat's eyes. "I said, shut up. You'll wake everyone."

Something about his stare was intimidating. Dave was built bigger than Karkat, but it was more than size. It was character. It was the way in which a stare could scream authority, the calm and collected stillness of his barely visible irises, hidden beneath a mysterious veil of lenses. It had alway infuriated Karkat, since it was a trait he himself had never possessed. Whenever the troll tried to stare someone down, it would usually result in more sarcasm and disobedience—never compliance. But although it pissed him off, Dave's glance did something even more; it scared him.

He wasn't quite sure why. Perhaps it was the realization that Dave was the first human—or troll, for that matter—to see Karkat at such a low point. He was the first person to observe his cowardice, his self-loathing in full force. The troll began to feel naked beneath his gaze.

Karkat found himself so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't realize he was sitting still. His fear had paralyzed him. Dave took his hand away from Karkat's mouth, wiping his slobber on his own pants (which, Karkat knew, due to magical game mechanic bullshit would clean themselves eventually). The troll and human were both silent. Karkat's fear dissolved into shame. His eyes glazed over.

"I'm sorry, Dave." He looked away from the human's stare, unsure how to proceed the awkward and painful conversation.

Dave stayed silent.

"I just...I can't seem to accept it all. The game. The scratch. The dreambubbles. This is all bullshit, isn't it?"

The Knight of Time did not blink.

"We were just children. We were just naive, gullible, incredibly foolish grubs. We still are! We don't deserve any of this. _They_ don't deserve..."

His grip on Karkat's shoulder did not waiver.

"None of them deserved to die...it's my fault, isn't it? I could have been a better leader, but I wasn't hatched that way. It wasn't in my blood. Not that there's anything wrong with red blood for a human, but...I think it's different for our species..."

Calm. Steady. Unwavering.

"...or maybe it isn't in my blood. Maybe it's just me. Maybe I was the failure all along. I was the one who gave your universe cancer. The one to lead a bunch of psychopathic idiots to their graves. And now what? I get to spend a bunch of sweeps on this chunk of rock with everyone who loathes me for everything I've done. This is my prison cell. And this—" he whispered, glancing down to his dampened sleeves, concealing the gashes on his wrists, "—this, is my punishment."

There was silence. Dave's fingers, which had begun to dig into Karkat's shoulder, went limp. He sat down on the floor in front of him. After a few more minutes of uncertainty, he started to laugh.

"Fuck you, Strider. I'm trying to have an honest, open discussion about my emotions, and you come along to mock—"

"No, Karkat, you know what?" Dave snapped his head at the troll, and the suddenness sent shivers down Karkat's spine. "Fuck YOU. No, really, fuck you. You never _once _tried to have an honest, open discussion about your emotions before this, and I'm going to bet that if I never tried to sleep out here and discovered you mutilating yourself I would never be _having _a discussion about your emotions, so really, fuck you for even saying that."

Karkat sighed. He was right. But Dave's anger confused him. "Why are you sleeping out here, anyway?"

"Not like you would fucking know, you never once asked me."

"Wait, how long have you been sleeping out here?"

Dave glanced at the skylight. He raked his fingers through his hair and began to scratch the nape of his neck. "Quite a while. And how long have you been, well..." He pointed towards the troll's wrist.

"Maybe a quarter sweep. On and off." He felt almost relieved to tell someone. The pressure of keeping such a selfish secret had only encouraged him to indulge in his self-harm even more.

Dave nodded. "Usually I'm out like a candle in a hurricane, but I couldn't sleep." He paused, hunching over. "Believe it or not, Karkat, but not all of us are doing so great. You aren't the only one feeling dejected. Rose is practically drowning herself in liquor because she literally cannot handle it. Kanaya is terrified Rose will never snap out of it, but is too broken by the failings of past flushings to really talk with her. Gamzee is clearly broken. And Terezi? Fucking Terezi? Fuck, I don't even want to—Jesus christ, Karkat! How could you not see how broken everyone is right now?"

The pebble of weight that had just been lifted due to opening up about his cutting was replaced by an even bigger stone. Karkat let out a long, deep breath, and tried his best to prevent his lips from quivering. "I really am a failure. I'm really that bad."

"No, Kar, you aren't," Dave whispered, his voice now significantly softer. He moved Karkat's foot off of the knife he had been hiding and traced the edge of the blade with his fingertips. "You are what keeps us together. You remind us to keep moving forward."

"That is BULLSHIT, Dave, and you know it. How is that even possible? I have accomplished nothing since setting foot on this meteor."

"Stop it!" Dave's anger instantly returned. "Stop this pity party you're throwing for yourself! Cut down all the streamers and pop all the balloons, drain the swimming pool made with your tears, and throw out the goddamn pity party pie. This is ridiculous! Everyone has fucking lost it here. Why can't you see it? You are the _glue _to all these idiots, keeping them grounded in grim reality. Reminding us at just how dumb everything really is. Your outbursts of unfathomable rage at the smallest most insignificant tribulations help us all realize how _literally everything _about reality and timelines and grist and the furthest ring i_s absolute horsecock_. Your anger is our anger, but you're the only one man enough to actually release it. Everyone else has just been shoving it back into the cesspit of slime lining their intestines from whence it came. But you, you Karkat, you have never hidden it. We all admire you for that. We all want to be as courageous as you. But we can't be."

Karkat was terribly confused, but listened intently. He realized Dave has been clutching the knife more tightly throughout his spiel.

"Karkat...if everyone else were to find out that all this time, you were just as broken as all the rest of us, I don't know if—" He paused, breathing in deeply, before continuing. "I don't even know if they could make it to the new session."

"Are you saying, I was being selfish? By not thinking about how my actions could hurt the others? Because I never intended anyone else to find out, so how the jegus fuck is that being selfish?"

"No, dude, I'm not saying that. I guess what I'm really saying is," Dave's grip on the knife's handle loosened. "Karkat, I don't want you to feel like this. I don't want you to feel as if you aren't important to us." He looked up at his friend gently desperately, with a twinge of hesitation latent in the breath before his words. "...I don't want you to feel as if you aren't important to _me_."

_What? _Now Karkat was really confused. Dave had hardly said a kind word to him since he appeared into their session. This wasn't making any sense. "Dave, what are you talking about? Seriously? I know as an immeasurable fact that I'm not important to you. If I was, then you wouldn't have—" He stumbled over his words and then went silent.

"Wouldn't have what?"

"...wouldn't have taken Terezi from me." His voice was barely audible, filled not with jealousy or anger, but of anguish.

"Terezi? Dude, I didn't take Terezi from you, I didn't take her from anyone. We've been through this. Remember when we were ascribing our deepest, darkest feelings in our penis journal?"

"Fuck you for that, Dave. I had a bruise for weeks after you threw me into that table."

"No but seriously. Terezi is a loose canon. I don't think she would have stayed with you even if I _didn't _exist."

"Oh well gee god damn. Thanks asshole."

"No, I didn't mean it like that. I mean, I don't think she really wants a real relationship with anyone right now. I don't think she's stable enough."

"What makes you think this?"

"...she's been spending a lot of time with Gamzee. I think she's pursing something black with him."

"Uh, well then she _does_ want a relationship?"

"I still don't understand fucking troll quadrants, but no, I don't think that's it. I think Terezi is seriously messed up. She has some issues that go beyond finding a cure in chocolates and flowers. She wants to be hated, not loved, but not the good kind of weird troll-hatred either. She legitimately wants someone to hurt her. I think she's the most messed up one out of all of us."

Karkat sighed. This was a side of Terezi he had feared would show through. "Is that why you've been sleeping out here? Instead of with her?"

Dave once again raked his hands over his forehead and through his hair, lifting up his sunglasses to reveal two of the most tortured eyes Karkat had ever seen. The bags beneath them were puffy, and his bright red gaze had glazed over. He didn't need to say anything. Karkat understood. Terezi had dumped him. But there was something else, something deeper than just that. Dave was lonely.

"Dave, I...I didn't know. I'm sorry."

"You know, you could have talked to me. You could have actually tried talking to me at least once. I'm not a bad guy. I'm a bit of an absolute loser, and I think we all know I'm not fooling anyone by putting on this cool guy act, but I'm definitely not bad. Karkat, I've been through so much..."

Dave had never opened up to Karkat. He wondered if he had ever opened up to anyone in his whole life. Karkat leaned closer towards Dave and whispered, "Do you have _anyone _to talk to about this?"

His bright red eyes closed. "I used to think I could tell Rose anything. She's a bit of a psychoanalyst when it comes to people, and it gets annoying sometimes, but she's really good at it. But now, I can't keep a conversation with her before she starts giggling and shitting liquor from her teeth."

The troll had pushed his chair backwards and now rested on the floor in front of Dave. He put his arms around his legs and rested his chin upon his knees. "Talk to me."

Dave blinked his eyes open slowly, his gaze focused on nothing in particular across the room, but he didn't budge.

"Seriously, asshole, talk to me. Not because I'm trying to be nice, but because I genuinely want you to talk to me. Please. I guess I really don't know much about you, and, well, maybe I would like to? I don't know. Please, distract me from my misery for a little longer."

Dave began spilling out the details from his life. About how, when he was younger, he believed his biological parents had either died or abandoned him or his brother. About how he was bullied in school and beat up so much that he had to be pulled out. About how his only three friends in the whole world lived thousands of miles away from him, friends whom he tried desperately to impress with his cool guy front just to keep them. About the death of his brother, the death of himself numerous times while time jumping, the misery upon learning Rose had tricked him into entering her suicide mission alone, the fear and realization that they were both about to die as they sat on their questbeds to birth the green sun. About his feelings towards Terezi, the first person he had ever truly developed feelings for, and the subsequent heartbreak he had kept to himself when she gave up on him.

As Dave spread out his emotions and stories to him, Karkat found himself increasingly fascinated. Learning about someone else's misery can do wonders for your own. If Dave could survive all of that, then so could he. And the more Dave told him, the more Karkat understood that his own problems sounded incredibly trivial. The most interesting thing was that Dave kept insisting his own pain was nonsensical, that he probably shouldn't be feeling so shitty and felt guilty for allowing himself to be so.

"I know I don't have it nearly as bad as you, Karkat, but—"

Karkat grabbed one of Dave's hands and held his wrist. To do so, he had to scoot in closer, until he was sitting in the gap between Dave's legs. Dave was taken off guard by this sudden increase in proximity and dropped his mouth open slightly, unable to speak. The troll lifted the human's sleeve, to reveal a perfectly smooth wrist, pale and unharmed. Karkat took Dave's other arm and repeated the inspection. Relief flooded into his eyes, and the corners of his mouth seemed to rise. "I'm so glad, Dave. I really am. Your experiences, they are downright painful to hear because I understand. I really do."

Dave flushed at the subtle smile of his friend. He had never seen him smile. Come to think of it, he had never been this close to him. It was almost too much, and he had to dart his eyes away in embarrassment after staring for too long. He swallowed the air he had lost, trying to ignore the strange sensation of Karkat's subtle grin.

He moved a single hand—the one not currently held by Karkat—and took hold of the trolls sleeve. The fabric was cold, wet, and a little sticky. He lifted the sleeve to his elbow to reveal four red lines; three were thick and open, and one was small and crusted over with dry blood. Light grey scars from previous occurrences laddered up his arm. Dave traced them with his thumb, his fingers reddening as he grazed over each open wound.

Karkat fixated his eyes on Dave's action. Shame and guilt transformed into sadness and understanding. Dave and him were the same. Karkat's scars were on the surface, and Dave's were hidden. The two Knights had waited so long for someone else to accept that their pain was real, and terrifying. They didn't want someone else to heal the scars. They wanted someone else to _see_ them. Really see them, and nod, and understand, and connect. Then and only then could they face reality with strength instead of fear, because then and _only then_ could they could realize that they were never really alone, that everyone pushes forward with pain coursing beneath their skin, in a place they can't quite place, in order to prove to the cruelty of nature that the darkness doesn't weaken them, that it only makes them stronger.

The two Knights sat in silence, their hands sliding down each other's wrists with a strange anticipation, until they began to feel sleepy. Without a word, Dave motioned to Karkat to sit beside him. Karkat complied. Dave rolled the troll's sleeves back down. Taking his cape, he wrapped it around Karkat and picked up the knife that was still lying on the floor.

"I never want to see this thing again, Karkat. Not here. Not with you."

Karkat leaned on his friend's shoulder, the fabric soft as sheep, and closed his eyes. "You won't. I promise. Please don't tell anyone."

Dave tossed the knife into the darkness and let the troll fall asleep at his side. He lowered his shades back over his eyes and listened to Karkat's slow, rhythmic breathing. For the first time in years, Dave could feel his incredible fear of the future subsiding. The present was finally tangible. And right now, as he stared up towards the skylight, gazing into passing dreambubbles with Karkat dreaming beside him, it was the only thing that mattered.

* * *

_Edit, Oct 30th: Minor fixes in detail and grammatical errors._


End file.
